The term black Republican makes about as much sense to me as a Vegas steakhouse or a Tiger Woods abstinence celebration camp, and yet, when I found out that 32 black Republicans were running for Congress this year I didn’t frown as much as I typically do.

Maybe because even though most of them are nothing more than black faces spreading the same messages conveyed by old white men, ultimately, maybe this will bread birth to some less irritating black GOPers with some new ideas. Meghan McCain with a tan, if you will.

So I wrote another piece for AOL News, if you’d like to check it out, click here.

If you’re wondering, yes hell’s temperature cooled by a few degrees.

I also wrote one earlier this week about Arizona’s immigration law and the need for real immigration reform. You can read that one here.

Warning: This video is not safe for work. As a matter of fact, the percolating penises present in this unfortunate video presentation may cause you to go blind in one eye and temporarily develop a case of vagina envy. Proceed with caution.

Wait, I’m confused. Wasn’t Chris Brown complaining a few weeks ago about not wanting to become an underground mixtape artist? If that’s the case, why is his answer to that claim releasing yet another mixtape? This is the equivalent of saying I don’t want to eat swine anymore, but let me order a three-way of Petunia and Porky Pig plus Babe on my plate.

This video has all the standard requirements of a rap video. A house they don’t own, clothes likely donated, free advertisements to companies, red cups in addition to a bunch of women and men just happy to grin in front of someone’s camera. The song itself references bitches, hoes, pussy, money and all of that other bullshit that’s more sleep inducing to me than wine flavored Ambien.

A glowing reminder of the mediocrity we should all try to escape in our lives.

Seriously, public school system, I hate you for making this generation as insightful as the cement one of my neighbors’ dogs just used the restroom on.

Also, the song is called “G-Shit” yet I hear nothing but references to women’s designer shoes, women’s designer clothes, and nail styles only women and Ms. Kim along with the girls at Tiny’s nail shop should know about. Yeah, that’s some real G-Shit, you two. Ya’ll go hard like Chip and Dale’s Rescue Rangers.

Mind you, most of my friends are women yet I didn’t know anything about red bottoms until Jay-Z mentioned it in “I Know.” I never get how some heterosexual males like to talk about faggots, punks, and vagina envy yet possess more backhand knowledge about female clothes and accessories than people with actual vaginas, but I digress.

While the beat of this song is cool and the hook is somewhat catchy, this benefits Tyga more than Chris Brown. Tyga wasn’t gaining attention outside of southern California for that song “Coconut Juice,” so he needs something to join Nicki Minaj and Drake in the upper echelon of the Young Money roster.

But for Chris, again, didn’t he say he didn’t want to be an underground mixtape artist? A nicely shot but still very much cheap video isn’t going to solve those problems, Young Brown.

Nor are your attempts at rapping.

Who told him that was OK? I don’t understand why singers who barely get a pass in that area attempt to spit hot fire. It doesn’t help like he’s smiling as if he just won the biggest prize at Chuck E Cheese throughout the entire video. I guess the positive would be that my brother in big teeth has a nice smile?

I wonder if Rihanna is somewhere in the studio Def Jam locked her in until she produces 45 more versions of “Rude Boy” laughing her ass off. If she’s not, it’s only because no one has sent it to her yet.

Needless to say, his hubris continues to do him in. If he wants even a fraction of the mainstream success he was only starting to get before Grammy 2009 weekend, he really needs to reevaluate the type of music he’s doing and the image he’s trying to sell. I like to think he can still come back, but the longer he sticks around doing the same thing the smaller his chances get.

Did he not read my Help Me? Can someone please forward it to him? I think I gave some pretty solid obvious. But if he doesn’t have time to read, perhaps he ought to check out what Kid Fury has to say:

You need to listen to someone new. On some real shit, baby.

P.S. I liked this video when it was called “I Get Around” 100 years ago.

I know that the bottom line of Basketball Wives is to further boost Shaunie O’Neal’s. Still, for the women who have decided to assist Shaunie in her TV endeavors do they intentionally mean to come across as so unlikable? If not, just what feeling are we as viewers supposed to have about them?

Are we supposed to be envious of their “luxurious lifestyle?” Should we feel sorry for them because they’re often home alone, cheated on, or jilted at the altar? What’s their purpose?

In one instance you’ll find some of these women complaining while in another you here them boasting on what they have via who they boned. Yes, I feel so bad for you because you’re whining about the “lifestyle” then three scenes later bragging on the material possessions that same “lifestyle” affords you.

It’s bullshit like that that has me smiling at a homeless man spending his donations on Jack Daniels over Jack in the Box a lot faster than I do at any point during this show. It’s really hard to have empathy for the obnoxious.

As big a fan of Erykah Badu as I am, I sometimes question whether she actually believes some of what she says or if she feels any pressure from the public to appear as this incredibly enlightened post-modern thinker because it’s expected of her given the depth of her music.

Then again, she might very well mean every word that she says and I’m merely projecting my own insecurities onto her.

I was going to avoid mentioning this video because I didn’t want an onslaught of Ciara’s cousins flooding my inbox with declarations that I’m an evil demon sent by Beyonce to soil the reputation of Atlanta’s favorite splitter.

That and I honestly didn’t care enough after watching it. But, since people are asking me if I’ve seen the video I might as well get it over with and chime in.

I don’t hate the video, but I can’t say that I’m in love with it either.

More importantly, I’m not at all convinced that this video will help Ciara return to the stature she earned following the success of her debut album.

Yes, she has a great body. I acknowledge that people are collectively celebrating that body and championing her spreading wide eagle for four minutes straight. Unfortunately, I highly doubt most of those people will spend 1.29 on iTunes to make this song soar to the top of the Hot 100.

And that’s what matters.

I do like the fact that Ciara is trying to go back to the look and sound that made her successful; however she still seems hard pressed to give men a hard on. She wants to be a sex kitten and fashionista — you know, something totally different from what we’ve been seeing.

She can ride a mechanical bull, she pop her muscle butt to the ground like no other yet this a girl whose charm was rooted in not being like everyone else. She seemed like a regular girl and if there was a sexiness to her it was certainly understated. There’s nothing understated about this video.

Some people evolve naturally while others force it. For those that fit the latter description they tend to come across as transparent and desperate. The song is alright, the video isn’t bad, but how far will humping the ground get you these days?

Or at the very least, try not to hump the ground the exact way you did so seven years ago.

Before I didn’t care if I came across as harsh, but this time I’m trying to choose my words wisely. I don’t think Ciara should continue singing blue balls anthems like her debut single for her entire career.

At the same, though, she seems lost. We already have an artist known for her style and sex appeal…and Rihanna has catchier songs.

Which is why even if you don’t want to join in on the debate on to hump or not to hump, I think most of us who were fans of Ciara when she started can agree that “Ride” is no where near as catchy as her past hits like “Goodies,” “1,2 Step” & “Get Up.”

People will talk about this video for a week or so. The same way they did with “Love, Sex, & Magic.”

You remember how well that did for her, don’t you? A hook can sell music a lot better than sex. That’s why I don’t think any other singer out there is quaking in fear over this.

In fact, if I were Beyonce watching the “Ride” video I’d be like “You know what, let me get an extra order of red beans & rice.”

So in sum, I like the song but watching people do kegel exercises doesn’t really excite me the way it used to. Not sure this will produce the hit she needs.

Edit: Let me just say that certain people may find themselves twirking on the ground to this in their room after one strong glass (you know I mean red plastic cup) of Seagram’s Sweet Tea Vodka. However, that doesn’t mean this song will be a hit. This song makes you want to smash, not go crazy in the club. That difference is important for a dance artist. OK, carry on.

Not to sound insensitive, but of all people who are afforded a pass for pulling a Donnie McClurkin minus the penis Rihanna is the last person I would pay it forward to.

When Beyonce slips and fall it’s because she’s typically twirking every last calorie of her two-piece dinner off her body.

When Lady GaGa falls to the floor it’s spurred by her exhaustion levels — which developed because the constant perfectionist is giving her all on stage.

I can even understand why Michelle Williams can fall. As a late bloomer on the team skinny side of life let me warn you about what a strong wind might do to us. Besides, I still don’t doubt that Sasha Fierce pushed her out of the way for stepping into her light.

That said, I get why they might take a tumble but not Rihanna.

Although I did write that post about Rih-Rih improving as a performer, it’s not like she’s started doing acrobats during her performance.

She still walks from left to right only every seventh step she puts a twist and dip into it. That’s commendable for her, but c’mon nah, that’s no reason to fall.

I didn’t laugh when she fell for fear that the Illuminati would get me got over a giggle, but I will say this: Girl, get up.

You weren’t walking in stilettos nor were you doing anything your choreographer spent hours teaching you to do. You were walking to remind the other people in the arena to wake their tired asses up.

Kidding, kidding…kinda.

I will give the girl one thing, though: Despite initially looking ready to fly into space on the fall, she made up for it by dropping to the ground and humping it. That’s totally something I would expect her to do.

This month marks the one year anniversary of the suicide of 11-year-old Carl Walker-Hoover. If you’re unfamiliar with his story, after being taunted relentlessly with gay slurs, Carl hung himself at his house — shortly before his mother was set to go back to his school to discuss her child’s bullying.

A month ago an Irish immigrant killed herself after enduring her own bouts of bullying. After that, one of her bullies took to Facebook to say, “Mission accomplished.

Though I didn’t flat out say these sorts of bullies should’ve been swallowed, I do chime in about Walker-Hoover’s mother’s call for a support of the Safe Schools Improvement Act.

Also, a year ago I wrote the deaths of both Carl Walker-Hoover and another young boy who also killed himself within that same month. Although school officials later cited another reason for Jaheem Herrea’s suicide, his family maintains that it was due to bullying.

Whatever the case may be, I touched on how confining notions of black masculinity pose dangerous consequences. In that piece, I wrote about my own dealings in homophobia and as a result, for the first time wrote openly about my own sexuality. It’s also the piece that led me to coming out to my own mom. But I suppose I should save that story for another day.

Has your mouth ever watered at the thought of putting Khia over your knee and spanking her into submission? Yeah, mine neither so thanks for killing a lot of people’s fantasy, Khia. I’m kidding, people who record anthems like “Snatch The Kat Back” (a classic if there ever were one) obviously have a following somewhere.

I’m not mad…completely anyway.

I think it’s pretty evident that Khia’s been studying Lady GaGa and late night call girl commercials. She comes out dressed like the inside of a kaleidoscope. That’s innovation, baby. Katrina LaVerne, step ya cookies up.

And while it’s turning my penis into plato, I like how she then quickly ventures off into the lost sit of “Lap Dance.”

Speaking of laps, I recognize model Lamar James from Harlem Heights. Don’t ask me how I know his government. Let’s just say I’m a fan. A big enough fan not to hold his previous comments about HBCUs against him.

For those mad at her budget, try to be happy for her: For once, it actually looks like she has one. Khia has come a long way from showing up at a family BBQ with a camera man and swaying her hips from side to side by the pit the way she did in “My Neck, My Back.”

For anyone else I’d be easily swayed into calling this a fail. But, I’m not going to discourage Khia after she spent all the time watching Top Model and learning how to smize. And low key Khia has some nice songs in her catalog. If I can get the image of Khia in her nana’s church hat and old pair of Mardi Gras tights out of my mind, I think I might sing this late at night when no one can hear me.

For better or worse I’m going to remember this video and song for at least two weeks. That’s mighty impressive in an era of music where I can forget I’m watching a video less than thirty seconds into it. One slow clap for you, Khia.

And before I leave, let me just say that I never noticed it before until this video but there’s something about Khia that reminds me of Mother Winslow in her younger years. I think Henry Louis Gates ought to check their family trees and make that connection.